Blighted Storm
by D-Ro2593
Summary: Lightning arrives in the Korcari Wilds during the Blight with no idea where she is or how she got there. Somehow her L'Cie brand went all blue and shiny like Fang's...what's that all about? Join Light as she travels w/ the Wardens. DA:O Pairings unknown.
1. Arrival

Blighted Storm - Chapter 1: Arrival  
>Dragon AgeFinal Fantasy XIII  
>Lightning<p>

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Dragon Age belongs to Bioware and Final Fantasy is the property of Square-Enix...I'm just playing with their charaters for a little bit.

-0o0-

The world seemed to be a haze of shimmering lights and shifting colors as the woman slowly started to wake up. The relatively simple concepts of up, down, left and right had absolutely no meaning to her as she struggled to pull herself off of the surprisingly soft and pliable ground she found herself upon. A small, calloused and yet distinctly feminine hand tentatively rose from the woman's side and placed itself in a steadying position against her throbbing and slightly wobbling head. Awareness was slow to return to the woman as she carefully sat herself up and tried to begin the process of taking in her surroundings through still somewhat hazy vision.

Upon first glance it was fairly obvious that the woman was in a forest or marsh of some kind with an abundance of thick knarled trees clumped close together that extended high into the heavens above. Littering the area along with the trees were large crisscrossing vines and hanging ferns that lazily strung their way from tree to tree. Plant life was everywhere, blooming with intensity and a variety that almost matched the woman's only other experience with nature...but still fell short by quite a large margin from that absolutely _grand_ landscape.

The ground that the woman was still sitting on was soft, slightly damp and was covered with generous amounts of mud, moss, loose bits of grass as well as various other pieces of woodland detritus typically expected of such an area. The leaden air around the woman was thick and heavy with moisture but a pleasantly gentle breeze running through the area kept the humidity from becoming overbearing in the mild heat of the marsh.

As her senses cleared a bit more, the incessant sounds of life and nature began to assault the woman's ears and seemed to be coming from everywhere all at once. Insects, birds, and plants swaying noisily in the breeze along with a wide assortment of braying, barking and snarling animals all seemed to be trying to serenade her at the same time to the backdrop of running water somewhere further in the distance.

Needless to say, these aggressive sounds painted a rather contrasting picture to that of the stereotypically picturesque wilderness.

Once her head and vision had cleared completely, the woman briskly rose to her feet and took a closer and more analytical look at her surroundings. Bright and narrowed blue-green eyes frigidly swept across the landscape inherently suspicious of what she might find there. Her previous experiences with nature and its inhabitants had not exactly been what one could call pleasant and the woman had just cause to be suspicious and on her guard.

The last time the woman was forced to trek through a wild area bereft of modern civilization, absolutely everything she came across had tried to kill her in one gruesome fashion or another. From the largest behemoth to even a few of the less than friendly plants, something about the woman must've seemed absolutely appetizing as they all had tried to turn her into a lovely mid-afternoon snack.

Unfortunately for those creatures, the woman had thought that the end of her blade was a far better meal for them to snack on than she was.

But hey, at least the view was absolutely amazing!

Remembering her training as a member of her hometown's military defense unit, as well as her past experiences with nature, the woman began a quick diagnostic on her current physical condition. It was basic procedure in the Guardian Corps training regimen for a stranded soldier to ensure they were in well enough condition to defend themselves if - no make that _when_ knowing her luck - the need arose en route to the nearest area where aid can be called upon. The procedure was ingrained into the woman's skull from countless drills and the almost automatic action came with nary a thought.

_'No visible injuries or discomfort...odd considering how I woke up,'_ thought the woman scanning her toned and athletic body with no visible defects aside from a few minor mud stains on her uniform.

The normally white and tan vest was still belted securely across her waist over a sleeveless brown turtle-neck sweater, though it now had a few dark brown splotches from mud and who knows what else. Her dark red leather miniskirt had ridden up her hips to show off more of her black athletic shorts than she would've liked, but otherwise she was fine with no cuts or even any bruises. Satisfied with her physical condition, the woman proceeded to the next item on her diagnostic.

_'Checking Primary Weapon...'_ The drilled words resounding through the woman's brain in the exact same robotic tone with which they were taught as the woman deftly reached a fingerless gloved hand behind her back.

A quick tug later and a gleaming silver and red object was revealed from the confines of inconspicuous brown leather harness resting against the backs of the woman's legs. Another deft flick of her wrist and the object rapidly unfurled with an odd mechanical screech and a whirring of almost otherworldly gears.

Of all of the noises ever emitted in these wilds, this was the one that seemed the most alien to the surrounding marsh...Which is actually saying something seeing as though everything from High Dragons to the blood magic of Tevinter Magisters to the more recent depravities brought by the rapidly growing Darkspawn horde has graced this stretch of wild land at one point or another over the ages.

However the woman was completely unaware of these facts as she continued her assessment of her condition.

The alien whirring lasted for a scant few seconds before revealing a shining sliver sword with red accents tracing odd markings across its length and several still moving parts standing proudly in the woman's hand.

With absolutely no hesitation, the woman turned on her heel and slashed her weapon with blinding speed at the nearest misshapen tree. A single mighty sweep of her arm was all that the woman needed for her blade to slice cleanly through the thick wooden trunk of the tree.

For a moment the entire marsh became silent and still as the tree remained motionless despite clearly having been cut in two by the woman's gleaming blade. Said woman gave naught but a small smirk before stepping back and retracting her weapon into its smaller form with another flick of her wrist. Pointing the retracted weapon at the same tree she just attacked, the woman gave slight twitch of her index finger on a curved trigger on what was once part of the sword's pommel. Almost immediately, the far end of the weapon let off a blast and a noise like a thunderclap as a small projectile came hurtling out of the woman's weapon at speeds never before seen in these wilds. In less than a second, the projectile had buried itself more than six inches into the thick wood of the tree - and caused it to slide backwards and shear itself neatly in half from the same spot as the woman's earlier sword strike.

_'Gunblade model 01672, Blazefire Saber...fully operational and combat ready'_

A satisfied look came across the woman's face as she converted her gunblade into its apparent storage mode and placed it back into its sheath with an elegant and well-practiced flourish. Her smile slowly started to fade as she began to think about the next item on her self diagnostic.

_'C'mon soldier, you can do this,'_ thought the woman as the demeanor of calm efficiency falling into her training brought her briefly faded and left a small but intense feeling of fear and anger in its place. A scowl settled upon the woman's beautiful face as she blew an errant strand of pale blonde hair away from said face. The woman's hair was always said to be a bit of an oddity as in certain lights it looked almost a light shade of pink.

_'It's a part of you now and you have to check all of your capabilities before you can go further.'_ Thought the woman as she resigned herself to using her least favorite ability. She rarely used it due to the circumstances surrounding how she received it and the abnormal nature of the power. But, for the purposes of checking herself, the woman felt compelled to test her power to its fullest capabilities to avoid any nasty surprises later when it might be a matter of life and death and she has to rely on her most deadly ace in the hole.

"Dammit..." spoke the woman out loud this time as she mentally reached inside herself for the power she unwillingly received trying to rescue her sister from a terrible fate. She felt the power build and gather upon the odd mark of crisscrossing lines and arrows branded to the flesh in the dead center of her chest. The woman hated the mild enjoyment she felt at the rush of power that radiated throughout her entire body as the mark began to glow an otherworldly magical blue.

She let the power build and rise until it was practically begging her for release from the minute confines of her human body. The woman turned with her light strawberry blonde hair and crimson cape attached to the bronze pauldron on her right shoulder swaying fiercely in an unnatural gale created by her magic. She lifted a hand out in front of her and clenched her teeth together as her body trembled and strained with the effort of keeping such massive amounts of inhuman power under control.

Electricity crackled on her skin and in the air around her as the woman focused the wave of power from it's origin in her chest and down through her arm to gather at her fingertips. With the power reaching critical mass, the woman prepared to release the most powerful version she knew of her favorite spell, and coincidentally, her simultaneous namesake at a nearby tree.

The woman took a deep breath and shouted her name out to the heavens:

"**Lightnin**-GAUGHHH!"

Pain suddenly lanced through the woman interrupting her call with an agonized scream. The woman now known as Lightning continued her pained screech as a massive blast went off from her rebounded spell that encased her in a massive sphere of rushing magical energy.

Something had gone terribly wrong with her spell. Instead of all of the power releasing outwards towards her target in a rush of hissing and crackling electricity, the unstable magical energy rushed /inward/ and centered itself into the mark on her chest. Lightning could feel the intense heat of her mark burning and twisting upon her flesh as if it were being branded upon her skin anew.

_'This is it, isn't it...my time is finally up...I'm actually turning into a Cie'th!'_ Lightning felt nothing but despair as her entire life flashed before her eyes, reminding her of every mistake and regret she never had the opportunity to correct during her relatively short life.

Distancing herself from her little sister, Serah, when their parents died…Becoming a Pulse L'Cie…Not being able to save her friends, Fang and Vanille from sacrificing themselves to save the people of her floating home of Cocoon…Letting Serah drift away into the arms of that lumbering oaf, Snow. Lightning eventually gave the couple her blessing to make Serah happy, but that didn't mean she had to like the buffoon.

Probably the biggest regret out of them all would be not taking better care of herself. Sure, Lightning was a soldier and kept herself in prime physical condition, and just the idea of Lightning looking unkempt is simply absurd, but Lightning never took the time for herself to actually be happy. Ever since her parents died, Claire Farron had to take up the self-made persona of Lightning in order to protect herself and her sister against the harsh realities of the world.

Lightning had lived a strict and regimented life of duty and order that had absolutely no room for any emotions or happiness outside of those belonging to or revolving around her younger sister, Serah. Even with her sister being the prime focus of her life, Lightning still managed to screw that relationship up with her detached persona acting as an insurmountable wall between her and her sister.

Being a soldier was all Lightning ever had to her life and she had given that up to try and save her sister from the Pulse Fal'Cie, Anima, during the Purge.

The Purge.

That's where it all started for her. And where all else ended.

But that's a story for another time.

For now though, Lightning had more important things to worry about...like whether or not she's going to turn into a mindless monster to wander the world with naught but her regrets for all eternity.

During her entire life-flashing experience, the magical sphere and the searing pain of her L'Cie mark had not abated a single iota. Lightning couldn't feel any grotesque changes happening to her body that would indicate a transformation into a Cie'th, but she did feel an odd growing warmth spreading from her mark to the rest of her body. The feeling was much like that of her magic when she called upon it. Lightning could barely spare a thought to how odd the sensation was in these circumstances through the torrents of pain assaulting her body before becoming acutely aware of her feet leaving the ground as the sphere surrounding her rose off the ground and took her with it.

The excruciating pain and unstable powers built and grew in intensity in and around Lightning's body until it felt as if it would explode from her every orifice...and then with another anguished scream that tore its way violently from Lightning's throat, it did.

A massively violent explosion erupted from the sphere of magical power surrounding Lightning with a resounding BOOM. It wiped out everything within a 50 meter radius of her location with Lightning's body acting as the blast's epicenter. Trees, vines, plants, animals...absolutely everything within that circle of land was wiped out in a single massive explosion of pure, unadulterated magical power. There was no gore from mutilated animals, plant debris from the area's destroyed fauna, or remains of any kind from that section of the wilds left after the blast. It was just a giant crater full of nothing...except for Lightning.

To be more precise, a floating, unconscious, battered and bruised Lightning suspended spread eagled in the air over the explosion's center. There was a shiny, pearlescent glyph resembling her L'Cie brand on the ground beneath her as she floated. The glyph was gigantic and covered the entire blast zone with its majestic glow. It pulsed several times with a few remnants of magical power before fading away to leave scorched brown earth behind it. With the glyph gone, Lightning quickly began her descent to the ground like a marionette with her strings cut. She landed with a heavy thud and a nasty crack that echoed all throughout the empty blast zone and she did not move.

Lightning was a mangled mess upon the decimated earth. There were bruises seemingly everywhere on her body and she was bleeding steadily in several places. Her left arm and right leg were bent at sickeningly unnatural angles and were most likely broken from the fall to the ground. Her clothes were destroyed beyond all hope of repair and left her relatively exposed to the free elements of the partially destroyed marsh.

The tight belt around her waist held enough of her vest and sweater together to cover the majority her tattered brassiere that stubbornly guarded the soldier's modesty despite the fact that the center of her shirt was blown wide open from the power escaping from her brand. Luckily for her, the majority of the blast escaped from her brand leaving most of her lower body and her gunblade in its sheath against her legs safe, if not a little scorched.

In her current state of undress, it was plain to see that Lightning was not transformed into a mutilated form of herself, meaning that she was not a Cie'th. However her exposed chest did reveal something interesting and completely unexpected. Lightning's L'Cie brand that had previously been black, rough and full of twisting arrows with a partially closed eye that almost seemed alive lying in its center had changed. Now the brand was burned smoothly across her skin and glowed a faint blue as if it were magically frozen in place. The eerie eyeball that sat in the brand's center was gone and the twisting arrows had retracted into a simple geometric pattern not seen since the brand was first bestowed upon Lightning.

Possibly a final reward for outstanding service from the Fal'Cie or a result of her appearance in...wherever she was, but whatever the reasons behind it, the results of whatever process Lightning was put through was clear. Lightning had been freed from the curse of the L'Cie and allowed to live her life as she saw fit. The true gift of this was that by allowing her to keep her brand and freezing it in the same manner as her friend Fang's brand, the Fal'Cie had granted Lightning the ability to keep her magic without the threat of turning Cie'th if her Focus wasn't completed.

There is absolutely no greater gift for a L'Cie to receive than the one Lightning was just given. But there were a number of questions that needed answering...

Where exactly is she?

How did she get there?

Is she supposed to do something here?

Can she get home? How?

Lightning's future was unknown and very uncertain, but she would have to deal with that when she woke up...if she woke up. For now, she needed to get some much needed rest as errant magic began to leak from her brand, healing Lightning's cuts, bruises and broken bones in a soft wash of green light that carried through the trees and silhouetted against a dragon gracefully flying in the distance.

-OoO-

The High Dragon flew confidently from the top of the Tower of Ishal in Ostagar back to her little hut in the Korcari Wilds with her prizes held securely in her massive talons. The last two Fereldan Grey Wardens left alive were held quite literally in the palms of her hands...or more appropriately, claws. The Dragon allowed a small chuckle to come over her as the intricate pieces of her plan slowly began to piece themselves together with her acquisition of the Wardens.

Her daughter should be pleased. The two men were actually rather attractive and should make her task easier regardless of the one she chose.

The Dragon was still congratulating herself on her cleverness when a massive explosion followed by a blindingly bright flash of light erupted in the deep blackness of the night. The taste of unknown and foreign magic was heavy and heady on the wind as the Dragon's head perked up and she changed her direction to go investigate. She knew that the Wardens were in bad shape having been thrown about by a particularly large ogre before being riddled with the darkspawn's tainted arrows, but this was a truly intriguing occurrence. It had been many decades since the Dragon had felt magic she was unfamiliar with and her never ending thirst for new knowledge drove her towards the blast zone of the explosion.

Upon her arrival, the Dragon inwardly quirked an amused eyebrow as she surveyed the devastation centered around a single prone figure bathed in a soft green light. The figure was that of a young woman with light blonde hair that seemed to glow pink in the magical glow around her. Her clothes were in tatters and she was in very rough physical condition. If not for the obviously healing magic at work on her, the Dragon would have surely mistaken her for a corpse; which would've been a pity. But what really caught the Dragon's attention despite the Wardens clutched in her grasp was the complete absence of Fade energies in the woman's magic.

As far as the Dragon knew, which was rather considerable considering her age, the root of all magic existed in the Fade and had to be called from that plane of existence to be used in the mortal realm. What this woman was doing in her unconscious state was clearly magical in nature.

It felt like magic.

It tasted like magic.

But it didn't feel like the Fade.

The Dragon was more than a little curious and wanted to know how this was possible. It went against everything anyone knew about the properties of magic and could be a rather useful trick to learn. To call upon magic without rousing the demons and spirits that lurked in the Fade waiting for their opportunity to catch a mage in a moment of weakness would be an incredible step in the changing of the perception of mages in Thedas. Not that the Dragon cared about the other mages, but having a complete night of sleep uninterrupted by annoying pride demons too bold for their own good was greatly appealing to the dragon.

Swooping down into the clearing of nothingness, the Dragon reached her long, scaly neck towards the glowing woman in its center. Without losing any of her momentum, the Dragon swept the woman onto her back with a single powerful movement of her neck and banked off to return on her way.

Things were about to become very interesting for the Dragon when all three of her charges woke up.

-OoO-

Alistair was the first to awaken several days later in a nondescript shack in the middle of the Wilds. Above him was a vaguely familiar female figure gazing upon him with an almost clinical look on her admittedly gorgeous face. Dirty blonde hair and brown eyes met midnight colored locks and gold eyes for a brief second before Alistair immediately flushed a deep shade of crimson while the woman gave him a triumphantly knowing smirk. Out of pure virginal instinct, Alistair tried to get up and run as far away from the scary sexy lady in front of him as he possibly could. Alistair's Chantry upbringing was screaming in his head that the woman was far too close and he should get away as quickly as possible before any...improper shenanigans could occur.

Unfortunately, that voice wasn't too clear about how graceful he should be in doing this...and was shouting some distracting nonsense about being hungry and sore on top of being disoriented and confused from his abrupt awakening, but those were far less important matters than Alistair's escape.

Alistair hadn't even made it to one foot before he got tangled in the bedroll he was lying upon and tumbled back to the ground with a resounding crash. The resulting impact caused his body erupt into a symphony of pain from recently healed wounds aggravated by the sudden exertion.

The woman above him gave a low chuckle at Alistair's misfortune before addressing him, "Well that was entertaining...My name is Morrigan, Warden, lest you have forgotten."

Alistair instantly tensed up and cleared his mind of all confusion immediately at Morrigan's words. Oh, he remembered her all right. She was that creepy witch-thief that accosted his party at the old Grey Warden tower in the Wilds. Something about her had seemed...off to him despite her obvious beauty, and had set Alistair on edge within seconds of meeting her. He had hoped to never the strange apostate again after he successfully retrieved the Grey Warden treaties held by the witch's equally creepy apostate mother. But life is never that kind...especially not to him.

"And you are currently within my mother's hut in the Korcari Wilds," Morrigan continued on without acknowledging Alistair's change in demeanor. "She rescued you and your two companions from the top of the tower of Ishal when the darkspawn overran your position. The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field and the darkspawn won your battle. Your king and the Grey Wardens fighting in the battle alongside him all perished during the onslaught."

Alistair's eyes widened in shock as he struggled to take the news in. Duncan...Cailan...his brother Wardens...all _dead_?

"We have spent the last several days tending to your rather extensive wounds here in the Wilds. Your friends are still unconscious but the majority of your injuries have been taken care of. If you have a moment, my mother would like to speak to you outside." A cruel smirk appeared on Morrigan's face as she quickly added, "Hopefully you still possess enough coordination to find the door, hmm?"

Either oblivious to Alistair's distress, or simply not caring, Morrigan had continued to speak as if the deaths of hundreds, maybe thousands, of loyal Fereldan soldiers as well as the closest thing Alistair ever had to a family had no effect on her. She didn't know any of them, so her lack of grief was understandable, but the effect of her words and demeanor sent a disturbing chill down Alistair's spine at her callousness. He was starting to find her remarkably less attractive the more she spoke in that detached and disinterested tone of hers regarding the complete and utter destruction of what had once been the entirety of his life.

Alistair was so consumed in his grief and sorrow that he almost missed Morrigan's next comment, "If you have need of anything, I shall be here to assist. Mother is waiting for you outside."

Having said what she needed to say to her guest, Morrigan turned on her heel and left the hut's single room with a rather interesting sway to her hips...not that Alistair noticed in his grief-stricken state. Even if he had noticed, Alistair wouldn't have been too inclined to do anything about it, anyway. Chantry sensibilities notwithstanding, the apostate gave Alistair the creeps and he couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Peeling himself off of his bedroll with a bit more care this time, Alistair gave a startled yelp when he noticed that he was in naught but his smallclothes! Blushing furiously, Alistair busied himself with putting his tarnished splintmail armor sitting rather helpfully near his bedroll back on, all the while grumbling about perverted apostates and traitorous heroes.

Alistair was just finishing buckling the last few straps of his armor when something that the witch said finally sunk in. Morrigan had said that he was saved along with /two/ companions.

One look at the floor revealed Duncan's newest Grey Warden recruit motionless on the floor in a bedroll similar to his own. If it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of the new Junior Warden's chest, Alistair would've thought for sure that he was looking at a corpse...the thought of being the last Grey Warden in all of Fereldan was definitely not appealing and brought a pang of sadness to his chest as memories of brothers lost came unbidden to Alistair's mind. He couldn't help but hope that his new comrade would wake soon...if they woke at all.

But as relieved as Alistair was, he couldn't fathom who their supposed third companion was. By the time he and the recruit made it to the ogre guarding the top of the tower, both the circle mage and the soldier who accompanied them to that point had perished at the hands of the darkspawn. The two Wardens were the only ones who engaged the ogre, with the new Warden impressively striking the final blow to fell the beast. As soon as the signal fire was lit, they were besieged by a sudden outpouring of darkspawn that caught the two off-guard. Outnumbered and surrounded, the two powerful but inexperienced Wardens were overpowered by the darkspawn and were taken down by well placed arrows that slid effortlessly through narrow gaps in their armor.

The next thing Alistair knew, he was waking up to the creepy apostate in this hut.

But that doesn't explain where the third companion comment came from. As exciting as his recent adventures were, Alistair distinctly recalls only one other person with him and they were still unconscious on the floor. Maybe the older creepy witch would have some answers for Alistair and hopefully he could get them without getting put in a pot or turned into a toad...green is _so _not his color.

Consumed in suspicious thoughts of apostates and turbulent emotions centered around the deaths of his mentor and brothers in arms, Alistair strode right out of the hut determined to get those answers.

In his haste to leave the hut, Alistair failed to notice the unconscious female figure on the small bed behind him as well as the stirring form of his fellow Warden on the floor.

-OoO-

**A/N: **Yeah...um...my first (uploaded) story in over a year and I'm not too sure how it turned out. I've been sitting on this chapter for a few weeks now in an effort to make it longer, but I think this part stands alone well and it's been burning a hole in my hardrive so I decided to just put it out there and see what kinds of responses I'll get. I think in the past year my witing style has improved and I'm eager to hear people's reactions on this. I think I'm going to try something new where I'll actually take suggestions on where the story should go from here as I have vague ideas on where to go but nothing solid...like as of right now, there are no pairings planned but who knows what might develop as I continue this fic. I also have several others that I'm working on (including a continuation on one of my previously abandoned fics from last year) so I can't promise anything in the way of updating, but I promise a minimum of 4,000 words for each chapter. That's gotta make up for something right? So...thanks for reading and be sure to review! I like those...

**Side note:** I do know that the actual spell in FFXIII (and every other square-enix game I have ever played) is **Thunder** and not Lightning, but I wanted Light to say her name so she did...I'm very much a geek for sticking to canon but I decided to cheat for once. Sue me.


	2. The Warden

Blighted Storm - Chapter 2: The Warden

-0o0-

__

**BLIGHT.**

-0o0-

Aedan Cousland groggily rose from the depths of his conscienceness as he slowly began to awaken. Slumped on a thin bedroll at the foot of an actual bed in a vaguely familiar hut in the middle of nowhere, Aedan felt a profound soreness permiating throughout his entire body. Just sitting up was proving itself to be a challenge as the large warrior tried to raise himself off of the ground with slow and measured movements. Each one took much more effort than Aedan remembered it should but the former noble pulled on his extensive willpower to force himself into a sitting position.

Aedan had almost made it to a more comfortable position when a loud slam coming from the direction of a nearby door broke his concentration and caused him to jump in surprise. Unfortunately for him, the sudden movement caused Aedan to slam his head against the wooden bedframe next to him with a resounding THUD. The strength of the warrior's impact caused the bed to jump with an almighty lurch and for something heavy to fall off the edge of the bed into Aedan's lap.

Muffled by the thud of the bed was a rather feminine yelp followed by another thud coming from the opposite side of the bed. Distracted by the pain in his head and the in rest of his body, Aedan failed to notice.

Recovering slowly once more, Aedan finally made it to a sitting position before finding the item in his lap. It was a red leather pack with an occupied sheath of brown leather attached to what appeared to be the bottom.

Aedan blinked several times as he peered at the items sitting on his broad legs with interest. Ever since he was a young lad, Aedan had always been fascinated by fine craftsmanship. He admired the skill and dedication that had to be put into raw materials to make something not only useful, but elegant and pleasing to the eye. It reminded Aedan of the same dedication and skill that he had to put into his training to make the simple swinging of a sword into a deadly and beautiful art. Destructive, yes, and prone to carrying heavy consequences for failure, but the martial arts were no less beautiful than any other art in Aedan's eyes.

The leather pack currently residing in his lap had to be the most finely crafted piece of equipment that Aedan ever had the privilege of seeing. The leather was stitched together with a precision so perfect that no mere man's hand should have ever been able to accomplish the feat and the almost blood red color was dyed completely and uniform into the leather with a substance that had no residue rubbing off on his hands as he inspected it - a rarity for all but the most expensive items. Whoever had made this was truly a master of their craft and worthy of respect, and whomever the pack belonged to must be very wealthy indeed to afford such fine work.

Aedan continued his inspection of the leather bag and opened the pack's main flap held together with an ingenious metal button on its inside that connected to a matching button on the flap's outside to take a look at the bag's contents. Odd assortments of glass bottles full of unidentifiable liquids, large tufts of feathers almost glowing a vibrant orange and a few items of clothing greeted Aedan as he shamelessly rumaged through the contents of the pack. Strangely, the inside of the pack held much more than one would expect from its rather small size.

Pulling his hand back out of the pack, Aedan went to take a look at a particularly soft and silky object he felt inside. Within seconds of viewing the object, Aedan quickly and respectfully put the item back, closed the pack and placed it back on the bed above him. Who knew that women's smallclothes could be so small and lacy and...revealing. The garment likely would leave very little of its owner's form to the imagination. It was probably Orlesian. Once again, Aedan figured that the owner of this pack was probably extremely wealthy if she traveled with such luxuries. Granted, Aedan had to admit that the apparent woman had excellent taste in smallclothes.

His inspection of the amazing bag now complete, Aedan began contemplating who the smallclothes and bag had belonged to. He took a look at his environment and vaguely recognized the hut as belonging to the mysteriously beautiful apostate he met during the first part of his Joining and her mother. The young woman had apparently observed his group's progress through the Wilds and became curious as to their purpose in what she deemed as 'her' Wilds.

Aedan knew the lures of curiosity all too well as he too seemed found himself instantly curious about anything new he came across. He did not begrudge the apostate her right to approach the group since they were mucking about in her home, after all. Besides, Aedan always had trouble saying no to a beautiful woman regardless of her ability to turn people into toads. Aedan's curiosity was a trait his mother had always said would be the death of him growing up as Aedan was always "investigating" things he frankly had no business messing with.

Correction...Aedan's late mother had always said that his curiosity would be the death of him. How ironic that his curiosity ended up being the death of not him but his mother, father, sister-in-law, nephew and the rest of their entire family along with the servants under their employ at the castle. Guilt welled up within the presumably last Cousland at the thought of the circumstance of his escape from his own castle from that bastard Howe's attack but he hastily pushed it to the side. That life has now passed and Aedan has fully embraced the mantle of Grey Warden for what else did he truly have now?

He really hoped that the smallclothes belonged to the daughter...he shuddered at the thought at the old and decrepit mother wearing such a skimpy garment. Though his face warmed up considerably when he thought of the daughter wearing them...

Aedan shifted as his somewhat perverted thoughts made sitting rather difficult when his leg brushed against another piece of leather. It was the sheath that fell down with that magnificent pack. Ever curious, Aedan pulled at the red handle extending out of the sheath's open end. Sliding easily out of its home, an odd contraption of a gleaming metal accented by smaller red plates of the same metal. If he were to guess, Aedan would say that the metal was of astounding quality; most likely silverite. Deciding to test his theory, Aedan knocked against the side of the contraption to test the metal's density when he accidentally hit something that gave an ominous sounding *click*.

Without warning, the weapon sprang into life and began to change its form in a whirring of gleaming silverite gears. Yelping in surprise toward the sudden change, Aedan shut his eyes and almost instinctively dropped the contraption out of fear of the unknown device's sudden movements, but something stilled his hand. He opened his eyes and audibly gasped at what he saw.

A proud and majestic sliver blade was held in his hand where the odd device had once been. The handle was a bold and defiant shade of red and had hints of golden plating and odd runes running up and down its length. To Aedan's surprise, the blade was impossibly light despite the copious amounts of metal used in its construction. Aedan felt as though there was practically nothing in his hand as compared to the massive greatsword he normally wielded, the beautiful blade's weight barely registered to the bulging muscles in his arms. In all, the weapon was absolutely magnificent and worthy of a true warrior.

Considering the only two occupants of the hut he's currently sitting in, Aedan had a hard time believing that a family of apostates had need of such a sword. Most mages he knew preferred to wield staves in battle and the lovely daughter certainly had one of those. He had seen it strapped to her back when he met her in the wilds. However, Aedan couldn't recall ever seeing the mother with one. Maybe there was a bit more to the old woman than the outward visage of 'nutty old bat' conveyed.

Aedan went to swing the sword experimentally to test its feel as an actual weapon when his hand was stilled yet again by a force he hadn't even noticed tightening its hold around his wrist. He dropped his gaze down to his sword arm to find a smallish hand firmly gripping his wrist. Aedan followed the hand up past a slender and toned arm past well defined shoulders and found himself face to face with an obviously irate blonde haired woman.

Aedan has seen his share of beautiful women in his life and has had many of them practically throw themselves at his feet due to his status as one of the sons of the Teyrn of Highever. But never before had he been so enraptured by a woman than he was in that moment with the woman in question currently glaring icy death daggers at him. The woman was was a bit pale and appeared to be in considerable pain but that did not stop her from looking absolutely amazing as she was. Pale, smooth, porcelin white skin covered her face which was set with two blue-green eyes that seemed to freeze and electrify Aedan's blood at the same time. Her hair cascaded down from the top of her crown in a shimmering symphony of blonde that almost looked pink in the dim light of the single room cabin.

Aedan Cousland had always had something of a weakness for beautiful women and unsurprisingly he found himself unable to do anything more than gaze upon her form appreciatively for a brief moment. Upon further inspection, it would appear that the unknown woman was clad in a minimal amount of clothing as the thick bedspread of the mattress above him was wrapped tightly around the woman's form. The woman's state of undress made Aedan examine his self and he was alarmed to discover that he was clad in nothing but his own smallclothes. However, Aedan was a Cousland and was anything if not professional in pressing situations. Finding himself injured and half naked on the floor of a hut owned by known apostates with an irate and possibly naked woman glaring at him certainly counts as a pressing situation. One more glance around the room revealed a distinct lack of Alistair in the hut...that could be a problem.

The charm of the woman's beauty immediately evaporated and meant less than nothing to Aedan at that moment. She was now a vital source of information in a critical moment and nothing more. It was as if a switch had been flipped in Aedan's mind. Gone was the inquisitive and light hearted man that was captivated by a simple leather bag and in its place came the cold, ruthless warrior that Duncan had coveted and blackmailed a dying man to have in the ranks of the Grey Wardens.

Aedan's mouth flattened into a thin line and his eyes narrowed as he went to address the mysterious woman.

-0o0-

Aedan's change in demeanor did not go unnoticed by Lightning. Still disoriented and completely unaware of where she was, Lightning was more than a little alarmed to find herself jolted awake from a sudden collision with the floor and then nearly broke out into a full blown panic when she noted the unfamiliar environment and her distinct lack of dress. Out of instinct she had reached for her gunblade which to her surprise was fully extended in the hands of a shirtless stranger. Why a shirtless man is in the same room as her, not to mention even touching her blade, Light had no idea but decided to dwell on it later. Alarm bells were going off in her head at the situation and to top it all off, Lightning's head was spinning with the odd vision she recieved while she was out.

She was no stranger to psychic visions as Anima apparently had found it amusing to torment her and her fellow L'Cie with constant visions of their focus even from the grave. Especially seeing as the Fal'Cie had semmingly perished moments after giving everyone their brands. The vague and disoriented visions had been a shared concern in the group of L'Cie and brought forth a constant line of complaints that issued mainly from the teenage Hope and the undisciplined middle-aged Sazh that nearly drove Lightning insane.

This new vision Lightning received was slightly different than the one of Ragnarok destroying Cocoon that she had become intimately familiar with. This vision held not flashes of images but an odd incoherent jumble of words with only one discernible word: Blight.

What it meant Lightning was unsure of. Was it a new focus from Anima? Had she not completed her previous focus in its entirety? Whatever it was apparently she had a purpose of some sort wherever she is and is probably on another countdown before she turned into a Cie'th. Whatever the case, Light needs a place to regroup and properly assess her situation. But first, there's the matter of the suddenly hostile shirtless man in front of her. Given her similar state of undress, Light didn't even want to think of what he was planning and wasn't keen on finding out.

She needed to escape.

Immediately.

The moment the man's eyes narrowed and his face took a perceived aggressive slant, Lightning struck.

-0o0-

Aedan wasn't even able to get a word out of his mouth before he felt a surprisingly strong pull on the wrist of the hand holding the odd blade. Caught off guard, Aedan lurched forward from the pull and immediately found a fist rocking against the side of his jaw. The coppery taste of blood erupted within Aedan's mouth as the punch sent him sprawling back to the ground near his bedroll. Once again in the short time that he's become acquainted with the woman, Aedan found himself surprised at her sheer strength.

Instinctively, due to many hours of training with a blade, Aedan managed to keep a firm grip on the odd mechanical sword much to his apparent attacker's chagrin. Ever observant, Aedan noticed the slight twitch in his attacker's brow and the focused flick of the woman's eyes towards the blade before they settled back on him in a cold glare. Aedan rose to one knee and wiped a small trickle of blood out of the corner of his mouth as his assailant wasted no time in springing after him on the ground.

_'So it would seem that the blade belongs to her...naturally she'd want it back. But why attack first instead of trying to find out what's going on?'_

A swift roundhouse kick interrupted Aedan's train of thought as the woman was suddenly pressing the attack. A muscled forearm rose up to block the kick sending the woman temporarily off balance, her leg instantly halted in its tracks. Aedan took the initiative and exploded from his crouched position to tackle the woman around the waist. The man's bulk overpowered the woman's lithe frame and sent both warriors sprawling to the ground. Aedan recognized the severe size discrepancy between the two and used his larger frame to his advantage by fighting himself out of the pile first and pinning the woman to the ground by essentially straddling the woman's torso and pinning her arms to the ground with his own much larger forearms. The woman was not pleased and continued to thrash about looking for an escape. The wall of muscle that was Aedan Cousland would not budge in the slightest and the woman resorted to glaring at him icily with a defiant tilt to her chin and her thighs firmly crossed.

Aedan cringed as he thought of how awkward this position must've looked. Yeah...a large muscled man pinning a resistant woman on the ground in naught but their smallclothes.

_'I hope she's not taking this the wrong way...I'm really not that kind of guy. She attacked me for the love of the Maker! What was I supposed to do, kill her? She might be the only source of information I have on whatever the hell's going on! No...I need her alive and unharmed. For now. Though if circumstances were different...well at least Alistair isn't here to see this. His virginal sensibilities might cause his head to explode or something.'_

Aedan's thoughts were once again interrupted, this time by the creaking sound of the makeshift front door of the hut opening. Aedan's head whipped around just in time to discern a new female form enter the shack. A quick glance revealed the shaply form of the younger apostate walking in with a stack of clothes balanced on her hip. She seemed somewhat distracted as her gaze was directed at something behind her that caused her to smirk devilishly in amusement.

"Hello Warden, my name is Morrigan lest you've for-"

The apostate's sentence was cut off by a loud CRACK that resonated throughout the small cabin.

-0o0-

Taking advantage of the brutish man's momentary distraction from the door opening, Lightning had reared her head forward into the man's nose, shattering it instantly. A resounding CRACK echoed throughout the small dwelling and the man jerked back in surprise from the unexpected attack, loosening his hold on Lightning ever so slightly. Utilizing the new opening, Lightning quickly used the forward momentum gained from her headbutt to drive the man off of her and onto the ground. Finally free, Lightning hastily scanned the room for her gunblade, finding it about three feet from her position within seconds. True to her namesake, Lightning quickly lunged for the blade and thumbed the button the transform the blade into its projectile state. With another whirring of gears, the blade folded in on itself to create a compact rifle that Lightning immediately aimed at the brute who was straddling her moments before.

Lightning may not have had much experience with men in general, but as a female soldier, she was well aware of the risks involved with getting captured provided to her. The possibility of rape was one that was one that was constantly cautioned against within both PSICOM and the Guardian Corps with the utmost severity. Due to the constant drilling that followed and her own outrage and disdain for such a cowardly act, Lightning is always prepared for such an attempt on what's left of her virtue. She may be a hardened soldier and a ruthless slayer of men and beasts, but underneath it all Claire Farron is still a woman.

_'And I'll be damned if I let __**anyone**__ do such a despicable thing to me!'_

With this thought and less than no remorse for the man in front of her, Lightning pulled the trigger.

-o0o-

Aedan was absolutely flabbergasted. One moment he had his unknown attacker at his mercy and was about to begin interrogating the woman for information, and the next thing he knew, Aedan was flat on his back disoriented and with a broken nose.

Another whirring noise caught Aedan's attention and he jerked upwards just to be greeted with the sight of the mysterious woman with her gleaming weapon in hand and pointed threateningly in his direction. Aedan froze and readied himself for a warrior's charge now that the woman was reunited with her blade. To his continuing surprise, the woman did not charge. In fact she did not move at all. The woman seemed to be frozen in place in her aggressive stance and a scowl on her face. Aedan began to question why she stopped attacking when she seemed so intent in killing him earlier, when he noticed a dull light underneath the woman. Aedan recognized the shape of a well placed glyph of paralysis from the few times his father took him to visit the Circle of Magi on business and he immediately relaxed. That woman wasn't going anywhere.

"Well, that was most interesting," spoke up a familiar drawling voice. "I daresay that had I not intervened, you would have been slain Warden."

Aedan turned his head to the doorway where the pretty young apostate stood casually leaning against the frame with staff in hand and a small confident smirk on her face. Aedan remembered her quite clearly as he was just as momentarily stupefied by her appearance upon their first meeting as he was with the mystery woman before she attacked him. Though with all the various happenings since their memorable encounter, Aedan was a little unsure of her name. _'What was her name again...Morinth...Mordor...Morgan...?'_

Having apparently noticed the Warden's confusion, the apostate rolled her eyes and continued speaking, "As I have said for what I believe is the third time today, my name is Morrigan, Warden, lest you have forgotten."

A pounding of boots and clanking of metal heralded the entrance of another within the cramped room. Much to Aedan's relief, the face of his new Grey Warden brother greeted him as the door burst open yet again.

"What's going on?" Alistair says rapidly with a sense of urgency. "We heard noises noises that almost sounded like fighting and I felt magic."

Alistair's amber eyes scanned the room before stopping at his brother Warden. His face lights up with happiness at seeing him alive, well and standing on his own power. Before he could open his mouth to issue a proper greeting, Aedan calls him off with a shake of his head before gesturing to the immobilized woman in the corner. Alistair looks over and his eyes promptly widen in embarrassment over her lack of dress before narrowing in confusion. Aedan silently tries to communicate to Alistair to let him do the talking as the situation they were in could turn very bad. He did not fail to notice that the old apostate had slipped into the room as well and Aedan was most certainly on his guard.

Aedan blinked once and put on a bright smile, easily slipping back into the jovial manner born from the carefree life of a noble's second son. It never hurt to show a little courtesy to your hosts. Apostates or not.

"Hail Lady Morrigan...and mother." he responded cheerfully with perfect intonation devoid of regional peasant dialects. Clearly, the man was not uneducated.

"While I am indeed pleased to meet you again," he says. "I would like to inquire about the nature of my visit to your home and about the armed and dangerous woman over there."

Aedan jerked his thumb at the still immobilized woman whose eyes were darting hatefully between Aedan, Alistair, Morrigan, and her mother. Aedan and the two apostates were successfully ignoring the glares while Alistair looked a little intimidated. Aedan found this to be very odd. Seeing as though Aedan had just seen him stand strong against a monstrous Darkspawn Ogre, the fact that a single woman left him so disquieted did not sit well with him. Even more so given that it was Alistair who had supplied the killing blow. Apparently, put him against a half clothed woman and he loses all of his nerve. An amusing thought that helped to keep the smile from leaving his face, but one that he would have to work on in the future. Unperturbed, he continued speaking.

"I thank you for your timely interference as I was quite taken off guard first by her appearance and then by her apparent skill in hand to hand combat. Is she a guest of yours or is she an enemy of some sort?"

Morrigan was quick to answer, seemingly as amused about this situation as Aedan appeared.

"Were she an enemy of mine, what exactly would you do about it Warden?" Morrigan asks with a smirk.

"I would ask if you consent to me questioning her as she has fine skill and some truly marvelous objects in her possession." Aedan says with a playful glimmer in his eye. He was enjoying himself immensely. One would think him absolutely serious about his proposed line of questioning. Lightning thought as much with a roll of her eyes that wouldn't quite cooperate with the motion. However, that playful spark promptly disappeared and Aedan's green eyes turn ice cold upon his next words.

"I would then dispose of her however you see fit in return for saving my life." Aedan says in a dark tone that immediately makes everyone in the room very wary.

Aedan takes a step towards Morrigan who resolutely stands her ground. "I remember what happened on that tower and I should not be here." Aedan continues, deathly serious. "Had there not been some interference, I would be dead along with Warden Alistair there, and our bodies likely mutilated by darkspawn filth."

Alistair pointedly remains silent.

Aedan pauses for a moment as if considering something before speaking again, "The fact that we are both standing completely intact in your home with full knowledge of your magical ability leads me to believe that I am in your debt. I repay my debts, Lady Morrigan."

For that brief moment, the carefree spirit demonstrated earlier was gone and the warrior was back for all to see. This was a man who clearly had killed before and had no problems doing so again. It seemed like the very air around the young Cousland seemed charged and tense despite the fact that he was not a mage. The man simply radiated power and authority naturally and wore it like a second skin.

Even the immobilized Lightning had to take notice of the man's impressive stature and begrudgingly acknowledge it with respect. Several seconds of tense silence passes before a smile breaks across Aedan's face, relieving the atmosphere. Just like that, the moment has passed and he is back to being the happy young man. It is a noticeable shift but it is done naturally as breathing.

"Or has this been just an unfortunate misunderstanding," Aedan says with another smile. "And we can simply send her on her way while we can...talk and get to know each other a little better?" Aedan gives an appreciative glance at the young apostate's partially revealed figure and makes no effort to conceal his interest. Whether it was a part of his act or not, no one could tell. In fact, no one could tell if he was putting on an act or not and tried to ignore it.

Though if the blush on Alistair's face was any indication,

To her credit, Morrigan did not look put off in the slightest by the near perfect common tongue spoken by the young Cousland having experienced it once before. In fact, she actually looked pleased that Aedan made it quite clear that he was an educated and well mannered man. Nor was she offended or upset by the blatant blood lust eerily displayed just as readily as his effusive greeting.

The suggestive undertones of his last comment were not lost on her either. Of course, Morrigan recognized it for what it was. He wanted to lighten the mood after being so morbid. Though if she were completely honest with herself, Morrigan would have to admit that the obvious confidence with which the man carried himself and the violent glimmer still noticeable in his green eyes to be rather...appealing...for lack of a better term.

This was a man who fully knew what he wanted and simply reached out and took it. Nobility had given Aedan Cousland manners and all the benefits of a proper education, but his charisma was wholly unique to him. Morrigan decided right then and there that she rather liked this Warden. It didn't hurt anything that the man was physically built of what seemed to be nothing but solid muscle. Clad in naught but his smallclothes, every inch of Aedan's sculpted body was open to Morrigan's roving eyes.

From his shoulder length brown hair and mustache-less goatee to the tips of his feet, there was nary an imperfection to be found amidst the man's body. Rippling abdominal muscles along with heavily defined and corded arm and leg muscles and a broad and powerful chest were all present upon Aedan's form.

He had a small amount of body hair manifesting itself as a thin line leading down from the center of his chest past his sternum and abdominals ending somewhere happily underneath the waistband of his smalls. He was otherwise free of significant amounts of body hair naturally which suited Morrigan's tastes just fine.

Combat wise, if Morrigan hadn't seen the greatsword clasped in the man's hands when her mother brought him back to the hut, she would have sworn that the man was a rogue of some sort with his relatively lean and sinewy form. Aedan was still a large man to be certain, but his musculature was not built primarily on brute strength in same way as most other warriors. His style would seem to favor speed over strength and his heavy definition suggested a great deal of repetition in his training which itself suggested that Aedan had large reserves of stamina.

Oh yes, Morrigan definitely approved of the man in front of her. With a widening of her smirk, Morrigan responded to the half naked Warden with a small laugh.

"Oh? And here I thought the odd woman was yours," Over in the corner, said woman's eyes flashed dangerously while Aedan gave no outward reaction save for a slight quirk of his lips. "Evidently not."

An idea strikes Aedan as he takes another look at the immobilized woman.

"Lady Morrigan, do you think you could undo the paralysis glyph enough so I could talk to her? Keep her immobilized but give her control from the neck up so she could speak?"

Morrigan raised a skeptical eyebrow in response.

"A reasonable request," she says before waving her staff once in the woman's direction.

-0o0-

Lightning had calmed down a bit during the conversation between her attacker and the odd woman calling herself Morrigan. Their obvious flirting and attraction to each other was sickening but at least they were not trying to kill her.

Personally, Lightning was both angry and humiliated by how she easily she had been immobilized and taken out of her fight with that man. A soldier with her experience should have been able to adapt, or at the very least notice a new combatant entering the field. Lightning was better than this. It was the kind of thing she expected someone like Snow to fall for, not her.

Angry as she was, however, Lightning was not blinded by her rage towards the situation. She fully recognized the perilous position she was in and made the conscious decision to try and behave herself. Captured and held at the mercy of an admittedly capable warrior and what seems to be a fellow L'Cie, Lightning knew she was working from a shit position. As much as she despised the thought, she had to play nice lest it is decided that it would be easiest to dispose of her while she cannot fight back.

Or could she?

Focusing her magical energies, Lightning lightly probes the glyph with her power, just to be sure that she really was at their mercy. She would not be held simply because she didn't try to get out. She has to try something. Feeling the familiar rush of euphoric power running from her chest, Lightning channeled the flow of magic to the floor where the glyph held her.

Curiously, the magic did not respond as quickly or with the same strength that she had become accustomed to. In fact, it was so weak that it reminded Lightning of when she first received her brand and had no idea how to direct her power. Definitely a cause for concern, but it still did the job so Lightning decided to worry about it once she broke free.

Upon contact with the foreign energy, the glyph continues to hold fast and its grasp on Lightning does not waver in the slightest. In fact, call her crazy but the binding seems to have gotten stronger in the few seconds Lightning had been in magical contact with it.

She looks up to the woman who cast the spell and Morrigan gives a tiny smirk with an almost unseen shake of her head.

Damn, she noticed.

Lightning wasn't getting out of this that easily.

The woman's staff waved once more and Lightning slowly regains feeling in her neck and head. It was an odd sensation. Like she had been ice cold and then tried to warm up by running hot water over her body. It was a gradual warming that alleviated the numbness and immobility of her head, for which she was grateful for, but it left the rest of her feeling much colder than she should have. Definitely colder than she was before she tried to feel the barrier anyway. Morrigan's smirk never left her face. Lightning suspected that the other L'Cie was doing that on purpose.

"It is done Warden," Morrigan said lazily to the man. "You may converse with her, but be cautious. I believe she has some magical ability though I cannot say how much at this time."

"Really?" Exclaimed 'Warden' with what appeared to be profound interest. And concern. "Are you certain?"

"She attempted to examine the glyph of paralysis with her mana," Morrigan replied looking very pleased with herself. "I must maintain a slight connection with the glyph to keep its strength at a constant level for an indefinite amount of time. A normal glyph eventually wears itself out while I can keep her suspended as long as I wish so long as I concentrate. I could feel her power brushing against mine just now."

To his credit, the man actually looked intrigued by the L'Cie's explanation of her spell and listened intently. Did he have some magic as well?

Theoretically, the logic behind the magic made sense to Lightning despite the fact that she did not know this particular spell. Nonetheless, she filed the information away in case it may prove useful later.

Morrigan turns to look at Lightning with an odd look on her face.

"Your magic is strange," Morrigan says. "I would very much like to speak to you when the Warden is finished."

Lightning did not reply and instead kept her gaze locked on the man she had fought. For the first time, she took a real good look at him. He was handsome enough she supposed and he seemed fairly young. Probably in his early to mid twenties like herself. He also appeared to be reasonably intelligent judging by his ever alert gaze boring into her. There was a sharpness and awareness in his green eyes that told Lightning that she was not dealing with a fool despite whatever act he had put on.

Speaking of which, Lightning was not entirely sure how to take that. It did not seem like an act at first, but with his abrupt change from aloof idiot to fierce and bloodthirsty warrior, Lightning was not sure what to think of the man. Both demeanors seemed genuine and neither seemed like as if it was forced or put on. Clearly, there is some depth to the man. Which, unfortunately for Lightning, could affect the outcome of this in numerous ways.

"Warden" falls silent and takes a step towards Lightning. He looks at her dead in the eye and Lightning defiantly glares back. Warden makes no outward reaction to Lightning's blatant hostility. In fact, he remains utterly calm. Infuriatingly calm if you'd ask Lightning.

With her immobility and forced line of sight, Lightning did take note of the impressive musculature on his solid and well defined frame. Various scars and bruises littered his form as evidence of prior battles - including some fresh ones from their earlier encounter. The fact that he is still standing is a testament to his skill as a warrior and that, in of itself, deserves respect.

Not that any of this swayed Lightning in the slightest. The man was still the enemy and as such, she would take in as much information about him as she could, if for no other reason than professional courtesy to avoid being overpowered again. His looks were irrelevant. Everything about him was intel that she needed to eventually exploit to make her escape. Nothing more and nothing less. She was trained for situations like this. Lightning wasn't worried - apprehensive, yes, but not worried. She just needed time.

Unfortunately, that means Lightning would have to participate in this little exchange.

-o0o-

**A/N:** Hey…*dodges flying produce*…I have no excuse. To be honest, I don't even know how much further I'm going to continue this. I got sidetracked by so many other things and I have another story and a whole lot of other half finished drabbles that I'm more into than this one. I had all of this written, sitting there gathering dust in my iPod's notepad, so I decided to just post it. This might get updated eventually, so don't take me off alerts, but you might have to wait for it. Lo siento, amigos…


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